


Saving the Saviour

by LouPF



Series: when we collide [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Healer Harry Potter, M/M, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Parental Nagini (Harry Potter), Protective Nagini (Harry Potter), Sane Tom Riddle, Slow Burn, Smart Harry Potter, most major characters are there, oc characters for plot reasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: When Voldemort attempts to kill baby Harry Potter, magic decides 'this won't do' and instead creates a soul bond between them. This isn't discovered before a decade down the line, when Voldemort's resurrection goes... not quite as planned, and Tom Riddle comes out on the other side.Tom, now experiencing human emotions for the first time ages, struggles to understand everything going on around him. Things don't start going easier when he realizes his attachment to his bonded goes above and beyond the realms of just a soulbond.***'Damning the Damned' from Tom's perspective, except it's three years later and my writing has improved. Also there's more scenes lol
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Nagini & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: when we collide [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168229
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> you absolutely do NOT need to read Damning the Damned to understand this!! It's the same story, just from a different POV! Of course, DtD is finished, so like... the whole plot is over there :) 
> 
> But, like. It's been a while and I've improved a bit, so the writing is a bit better, and I've 1. made some changes to dialogue and scenes 2. written additional scenes to fill out the gaps and 3. added scenes entirely.
> 
> Tags and warnings to change as the story progresses! <3
> 
> Chapter lengths will wary.

Voldemort lay cradled in Wormtail's embrace, the world a raging inferno around him. Every second was a second of pain, his skin and blood boiling in the scorching heat. "Hurry," he gasped, and Wormtail shifted and turned - like the rippling tide it was felt against Voldemort's sore skin.

"It is ready," Wormtail muttered.

"Now..." Voldemort said - _commanded_ \- and the robes were pulled aside, cold night-air rushing in to caress his body. He blinked his eyes against the light, and the graveyard faded into view - the Potter boy, gritty and hurt and tied up to Tom Riddle's tombstone.

They locked gazes across the field, and tears welled up in Potter's eyes. Forcefully - aggressively - he fought against his restraints. He bit through the gag and spit it out on the ground, then cried, "wait!" with a voice so raw it caught Voldemort's attention. "Wait, please, _wait!_ "

Something tore through the haze and dizziness of the pain, and Voldemort hesitated - waiting.

"Let me _help_ you," Potter begged, and he looked like a drowning man, a wildness to his eyes that couldn't be denied. He held Voldemort's gaze, uncaring for Wormtail. "I can _help_!"

"...master?" Wormtail asked, his voice trembling.

"Commence," Voldemort hissed, "with the ritual... use the boy..."

"Yes," gasped Potter, collapsing against the tombstone, "yes, yes..."

"Yes, master," Wormtail mumbled, and dropped Voldemort into the cauldron.

The water was colder than the night-air - colder than ice and silver - and magic coiled within it, each sparkling particle the size of an undeveloped snowflake. Voldemort sunk to the bottom, staring up at the rippling surface as it flickered and changed, bubbling and folding.

The magic crept beneath his skin, and he let it, closing his eyes at the indescribable pain of every cell in his body ripped apart and put back together.

Blood dripped into the water. There was a pause; it drifted, warped -

And something _slammed_ into him with more force than a masterful Expelliarmus, fighting its way down his throat, and he swelled, expanded - again, and again, piece by piece. Emotions tore through him, more than he'd felt in decades - guilt, worry, adoration, grief, devotion - so bountiful and heavy he couldn't name them all.

Overwhelmed, Tom Riddle rose from the water - standing bare for the world, as whole as the day he'd been born and heaving for breath.

"Master," Wormtail gasped, and Tom was too dizzy to do anything but accept his help out of the cauldron, letting him wrap a robe around his shoulders.

He tilted his head back and glanced at the sky, leaning his weight onto Wormtail. The stars twinkled few and far between, distantly and weak.

His heartbeat stilled in breathless wonder, the whole universe resting between his ribs.

"Master," Wormtail said, "the boy..."

Tom stared at him for a moment, and then he snapped back to himself - realizing who and where he was. "Yes," he said, and wiped his tears away. "Yes. Yes, the Potter boy." Clearing his throat, he turned to Potter, who was staring at him in wide-eyed terror. He was crying still, tears falling freely from his eyes. Tom cocked his head and stared.

Before him stood a living, breathing life. When had he last appreciated the wonder of life? Of a beating heart and constricting lungs?

Even if Tom had wanted to kill Potter, something held him back. He did not know _what -_ it had been too long since he felt emotions to pinpoint it - but... something.

"Wormtail," Tom said, not looking away from Potter. "Send the boy back. We have no more need of him."

Potter hiccupped, whimpering, "Cedric - "

"Yes, master," Wormtail whispered, stumbling forward to cut Potter's restraints and lead him towards Diggory's body and the portkey. Potter cast a glance over his shoulder - meeting Tom's gaze - and something _yanked_ at Tom's soul.

Potter inhaled shakily, then burst into sobs. He threw himself forward, across Diggory's body - he grasped the portkey in hand, and with a whisk, they were gone.

Tom felt strangely empty, though he had no idea what emotion that was, either. He stood still, staring at the spot where Potter had disappeared.

"Master," Wormtail said, walking up before him and bending his head meekly. In his hands, he held a wand.

"Excellent," Tom muttered. He mulled it over for a moment, then nodded. "We will retire to Riddle House for tonight... I have much to ponder."

"Y - yes, master."

Adjusting the cuffs of the robe, Tom cast a lazy drying charm over himself. "I do not dare warp your mind more than it already is," he said, giving Wormtail a nasty look. "You must take an oath to not share what happened here tonight - or I will take your life."

Wormtail paled, immediately raising his wand. Tom was not worried; Wormtail was useless for much, but this he knew well. "I swear on my life that I shall never again speak of what happened here this night, lest it be in the presence of my Lord and Master and him alone."

Tom nodded. "So mote it be."

"So mote it be," Wormtail echoed, looking faintly relieved at the acceptance. The tip of his wand glowed briefly, then faded.

"Good," said Tom. "We depart." Giving Wormtail no time to react, he grabbed his shoulder and Apparated. Appearing in the entrance hall of Riddle House, Tom let go. "I shall find you come tomorrow morning," he said, barely casting a last glance at Wormtail before making for the stairs. The master bedroom was clean, he knew, and so he went there, now. With a flick of his wand, the fireplace burst to life. Another flick and the door was locked.

Tom collapsed onto the bed.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

*

The next day, after he'd gotten a good night's sleep and proper food for the first time in thirteen years, he tore every painting and mirror from one of the bedroom walls. In their place, he hung blank parchment. With his wand, he stood ready to write.

Right. So something had clearly gone incredibly, _massively_ awry. Several things were worrisome: his appearance, his newfound emotional capabilities, and the brief connection to Potter. He had vague ideas for most of them, though not all.

Most pressing, however, was not to figure out the _why_ of the situation. The pressing was to figure out _what now_. What would Tom do, now, that he was sane? What would Tom do, now, that he watched his past sins pile up like a mountain before him? It wasn't even that he regretted most of them, but by Merlin, had he no tact? Well, obviously not, considering his complete insanity, but _still._

Most importantly: did he want to go back?

Circe. He needed time to think.

*

His Horcruxes were gone. Not dead or destroyed, but somehow returned to himself. It shouldn't be possible. A part of your soul, whether large or small when removed, would not come back. What had returned it?

Why had it been returned?

Tom was a _moron_ for removing it in the first part. Sixteen years old and high on hormones, thinking himself at the top of the world. Well, he'd seen the consequences now.

He would not make more. Not now. Not ever again.

But as he sat there, on the floor of the bedroom and surrounded by empty and non-magical objects, he concluded that nothing could turn him from his path.

Even if it would be a bit different this time around.

Tom nodded to himself and stood, gathering the worthless items in his arms. Dumping them on the bed, he went to find Wormtail so he could summon his Death Eaters.

If this was a chance to make things right, then by Merlin, he would take it.

*

"You have always been loyal, Lucius," Tom said, pleased to hear that his disguising spell disfigured speech as well as appearance. "I trust you still are?"

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Lucius, keeping his head low despite the Death Eater mask. "Always."

Tom nodded. "Then I suppose there is no issue offering your home to house those in need?"

Lucius, understanding what Tom had not said, stiffened. "Naturally, my Lord."

"Excellent," said Tom. "I expect a bedroom with a view, of course."

"Naturally, my Lord."

*

Malfoy Manor had seen better days. It wasn't in terrible condition - far from it - but it still lacked the polished gleam it had once had. Clearly, Lucius and Narcissa had let the duty of caring for the manor fall beneath the responsibility of caring for their son. It mattered little; Tom's bedroom was in pristine order... at least after he'd fixed it up. The large crystal windows had a nice view of the Malfoy gardens, and the bed was large enough for three to share and soft enough for the pickiest of Kings.

Tom had made sure to request a good and proper room for Wormtail, as well. It was a quiet, if not subtle, way of showing his Death Eaters that loyalty still received praise and payment.

After making sure the bedroom was up to his standards, Tom went to find an office for his own use. He had tons of work to do, if not for the world, then at least for himself. There were notes to be written and plans to be made. And, Tom mused, he'd need a desk to make them.

*

Nagini kept close to him, though she was no longer a Horcrux. She'd found him even before Wormtail did, when he still was hurt and yearning. Now she refused to leave his side. " _Nagini_ ," Tom whispered, brushing his fingers across the scales down Nagini's back. " _I do not know what these emotions are_."

And Nagini, looking faintly blue in the dark of night, pressed into his fingers. " _You humans are strange_ ," she hissed. " _And I do not understand... though I may still help. Will you tell me how it feels_?"

Tom was quiet for a bit, running his fingertips down her iridescent scales. " _Whenever I look at you, I am grasped by this great gratitude_ ," he admitted softly. " _I am thankful you stay by me, Nagini, hunt-friend_. _Your presence comforts me._ "

Nagini was oddly silent for a fair while, tilting her head this way and that while staring intently at him. Finally, she quietly said, " _I will stay with you as long as I may, for you are my hatchling, and you bring me comfort, as well._ " She hissed a laugh. " _And you are far more entertaining than any other snake or human I will ever encounter._ "

Tom gritted his teeth at the rush of warmth and pain the statement brought, stilling his movements to turn his focus inward, inspecting the sensation. " _There it is again_ ," he noted. " _It tightens strangely around my chest... it is like satisfaction and gratitude... and warmth, all at once. It hurts… though, in a simple way._ "

" _Human emotions are beyond me_ ," said Nagini slowly, " _but... could it be love you speak of?_ "

Tom was quiet for a long time, mulling that over. " _Hm_ ," he finally said. " _Yes... mayhaps... mayhaps you are right_."

With a final stroke to her scales, Tom went to bed, pondering what Horcrux had held the ability to love - if he had regained it now.

*

Tom was going to go insane all over again if the clock on the office wall wouldn't shut up. It was incredible just what a constant ticking could do to the human psyche; he made a mental note to jot it down as a slow-drawn torture method.

It had been four days since Tom's rebirth, and he finally had the time to think about what to do with one Harry Potter. Potter's desperate plea to help had been unexpected at best and horrifyingly perplexing at worst. Tom knew and understood how people worked - he prided himself on that knowledge and how to use it for his advantage - and so to suddenly not understand something about his, quote-unquote, _sworn enemy_ was terrifying.

Also, that had been a terrible decision. Impractical at best, moronic at worst. Tom put his head in his hands. Honestly - killing the child was the worst decision he could've made.

Okay. Well. It'd been done, and he couldn't go back on it. He had to figure out what to do _now._ Could Potter be a potential ally?

And what, exactly, had the strange prickling sensation been? The tugging?

The sensation of something _missing_ that had haunted him ever since that night?

"Fucking shit," Tom mumbled, raking his fingers through his hair. He'd have to find Potter. If not to make him his allied, then to wipe him from existence. It was either one or the other.

*

"Harry Potter is one of the three most well-known wizards of our time," Tom hissed darkly, "how does no one know where he is?" He looked at the various Death Eaters gathered around the table, one after another. "You are all incompetent little _rats._ " Wormtail, hunkered over by the door rather than at the tail, shifted uncomfortably. It caught Tom's attention. "Wormtail... you have something to add?"

"N - no, master - my Lord," Wormtail stammered. "It's only... Lily, she had a Muggle sister, I... is it - maybe it's possible that - uh, that Potter is with her?"

It was more than any of his incompetent Death Eaters had managed. "Excellent, Wormtail," Tom said softly. "You prove yourself worthy once again. Tell me everything you know of this... sister."

After Wormtail had given him more information about a Muggle woman than he'd ever need and he'd set all his Death Eaters on attempting to find her, Tom retired to his office. Leaning heavily onto the windowsill, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass. " _Nagini,_ " he said, " _what year is it_?"

" _I'm a snake_ ," said Nagini.

Tom closed his eyes. A snake wouldn't care to know what year it was. Obviously.

" _-atchling? Hatchling. Is something the matter?_ _Are you hungry_?"

Tom pushed away from the window but had to grab onto the back of his chair to not fall over as a rush of dizziness crashed over him. " _No,_ " he said. " _I am fine._ "

Nagini's tongue flickered. She rose from her position on her heated rock, hovering in the air before him. " _You are not._ "

" _I am,_ " Tom insisted. " _There is nothing wrong_."

" _You asked me what year it is._ "

He sighed, turning away from her to mindlessly sort through some papers on his desk. " _Forgive me if I'm not quite myself after spending a decade as a spirit before being returned to human form with more soul than I have had since I was sixteen_."

Nagini was quiet for a moment. " _How much did you have when I found you_?"

Tom did some quick calculations. " _Approximately three percent of a whole._ "

" _I think you should rest_."

" _I think you should shut up_."

" _Eh. To each their own."_

_*_

The howling of air-raid sirens filled the air, and Tom sat hunkered over by the door of the shelter, curled in on himself in a little ball. He was not allowed further in - the nice sister Martha had been fired a few weeks ago, and everyone else was too scared of him to let him come closer. _Hogwarts_ , Tom thought to himself, clutching at too-long sleeves, _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, just two more weeks, Hogwarts!_

The bombs started falling, and he put his head between his knees, hoping desperately the shelter would hold.

And in a flash, he was no longer in the orphanage's bomb shelter, but rather standing at the bottom of a staircase, staring up at a silent and angry Albus Dumbledore. Behind him stood row after row of people - teachers, allies, friends - shadowless and eyeless. A woman was screaming, and Tom yelped, staggering backward - but the staircase dissolved into thick blood, rushing down towards him. It yanked him under, and he fought against it, desperately trying to keep his head over.

"You are a fool and a coward," Dumbledore said calmly, and his voice was composed of every plea for help and mercy Tom had ever brought forth, and Tom gasped for air - was dragged under -

The hallways of Hogwarts rushed past him as the blood tore him away, and he struggled, _battled -_

"You're not worthy of this place," said the voices. "You're not worthy of _anything_."

Tom sat upright in his bed and gasped for breath.

The room was quiet and dark, the thin curtains wavering slightly in the light breeze from the open window.

One heaved breath. Two.

Tom withered a little, desperately trying to not cry. But the tears pressed on, from shock or lingering fear or hopeless childishness, and he couldn't help the few droplets that slid down his cheeks.

With trembling hands, he wiped them away, but new ones kept coming. He closed his eyes. Dragged his fingers through his sweaty, unkempt hair.

The hollow, painful feeling clutching to his ribs was worse now than ever.

Tom breathed. Breathed.

In each heartbeat was an echoing, whispered word: _alive, alive, alive_.

*

It had been a week since Tom's rebirth, the schoolyear had newly ended, Tom was falling apart, and his Death Eaters had not managed to find Petunia Dursley.

Nagini slithered up the armrest of his chair, looping lazily around his shoulders. " _You look exhausted._ "

Tom didn't look up from his paper. " _That would be the exhaustion._ "

" _Why aren't you sleeping_?"

Still without looking up, Tom reached for his cup of tea - laced with Pepper-Up potion. " _That would be the nightmares._ "

" _You need to rest._ "

" _No, I need to find Potter_ ," said Tom.

" _Why_?"

" _Because,_ " said Tom, and trailed off. " _Because..."_ He did look up, now, frowning confusedly at empty air. " _Because I... have to._ _I just - have to._ " There was something about Potter dragging him in, and he'd learned to never doubt his gut when it came to things like this. " _Maybe I'll... feel better then_."

" _You'd feel better if you slept,_ " said Nagini, a slight bit exasperated.

Tom stared at his trusted snake for a while, then sighed, relaxing his muscles. " _Perhaps I would,"_ he agreed.

He was so tired. Every cell in his body ached.

He had to find Potter. He _had_ to.

*

On the twelfth day, Tom cracked the code. "South-East England," he said, holding himself upright at the head of the Death Eater table by a sheer force of will. "Little Whinging, Surrey. That's where he is."

Lucius, sitting relatively close, nodded. "When do we attack, my Lord?"

"Attack?" Tom repeated. He had, for a brief moment, forgotten that Potter was the enemy. "No. No, no. I go in alone. He is but a meek boy; if troubles arise, I shall handle them myself."

Murmurs of "Yes, my Lord," echoed down the table.

"Very well," said Tom. "Before we depart... Lucius. How is Severus?"

"His reports are coming in quick succession, my Lord," said Lucius, inclining his head. "He will join meetings as soon as it does not arise suspicion."

"No need," said Tom, raising a hand. "I will inform him of anything of importance. Thank you." He stood, nearly fell, and hurriedly made it look like he was just changing the position of his chair.

Nagini, wrapped around his shoulders, hissed disapprovingly.

" _Shut up_ ," Tom muttered. " _I'm **fine.**_ " Switching to English, he said, "I will take care of the boy."

Marching off to the office, Tom hurriedly went over the plan in his head: find Potter, pull him aside and have a calm discussion of his views, and most likely kill him since he probably wasn't on board with Tom's plans.

It hurt every fibre of his being to even consider it.

He did not want to think of why.

" _Do you wish to accompany me_?" Tom asked, putting a hand on Nagini's head. " _I know you don't like apparation."_

" _In your condition? I will not leave your side._ " Nagini huffed. " _Get on with it_."

Tom rolled his eyes, apparated, and promptly passed out.

*

He came to sometime later with a very worried - and _heavy -_ Nagini curled up on his chest. " _Hatchling - Tom! I told you, you were in no fit state to travel - next time, listen_!"

Instead of answering her, Tom brushed off some dirt and sat up, trying to get a look of where he was. It didn't take more than a quick look to conclude he was in the right area: the pristine, ordinary Muggle-styled houses and the ruler-cut grass said enough. He seemed to be in the front yard, half-way wedged in-between the shadow of an apple tree and the shadow of the neatly trimmed hedge. The number on the wall read _6._ Though Privet Drive number four could be either direction, Tom knew Potter was to the right - the hedge closest to Tom. He didn't stop to consider how he knew, only struggled to his feet and stumbled into the greenery, flicking his wand to bend aside the branches. With Nagini hurriedly curling around his shoulders, Tom all but melted through the hedge - stepping out into the yard of Privet Drive 4.

The first and only thing Tom noticed was Harry - passed out and face-down in the flower bed. He rushed over and sunk to his knees, Nagini slithering down his arms to taste the air. " _He's not dead_ ," she hissed.

" _I know_ ," said Tom (though he had no idea how), and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

It returned to him in a rush, strength and power and rational thought. Like a wave, it crashed into him, dragging him under, and the world was clear and beautiful for a whole second.

"Oh," said Tom, and grasped Potter's other shoulder, as well. "Oh, _okay_ then." Everything made sense at that moment - during one perfect, blissful moment, Tom knew exactly what had been missing the last two weeks.

And then it settled around him like a robe, and Tom swallowed, swallowed - blinking his eyes to clear his vision and return to the present. He squeezed Potter's shoulder, then removed his hands.

A bond... but of what kind? And why? What had caused it, and what would the consequences be if it was broken?

An absolutely hideous woman stepped out onto the porch. Her voice trembled when she spoke. "If - if you're gonna - if you're gonna take him, just do it! Before the neighbours see!"

"Petunia Dursley, I presume?" Tom drawled, putting his hands back on Potter's shoulders. When she nodded shakily, he leaned forward and rolled Potter into his arms, hooking one below his knees for support. "You are a disgusting, pitiful excuse of a woman. Good day."

And with that, he spun on his heel and disappeared.

He appeared in his own office, clutching Harry Potter to his chest. "Well," said Tom Riddle, looking at his sworn enemy. "That fucking sucks."

*

"Tell me whenever he wakes up," Tom said to Healer Abbet, tasked with watching over Harry. "I need to impart some important information."

"Yes, my Lord," the healer said, nodding her head. "I, uhm, I assume regular policies still stand?"

"Indeed. No mentions of this to anyone."

"Understood, my Lord."

Tom, who hadn't felt this refreshed in ages - literally - went to find the Malfoy ballroom. He hadn't danced in a decade; he quite thought he deserved it now.

*

Four hours later, Tom had finished dancing and cleaning up. Now he sat by Harry's bed, frowning at his unmoving form. There were things he could do - he'd already wanted him on his side to make his silent fight against the Ministry easier, but now he'd need him on his side twice over. Tom's original thoughts of a quiet recruiting disappeared into smoke - Harry's continued presence was necessary for both of their survival. But Tom couldn't just have _Harry Potter_ roaming around his halls - the more people knew, the higher the risk of it getting out was. He could call him his apprentice - or just a high-ranking Death Eater - but, no, that would probably cause jealousy and conflict...

" _Have you glared him awake yet_?" Nagini asked, lying pooled at the end of the bed, curled up between Harry's ankles.

" _You disgust me_ ," Tom said flatly. " _And no. I can't do that_."

She hummed, pleased. " _Good to have you back._ "

Healer Abbet stepped in from her office. She bowed upon seeing Tom. "My Lord," she muttered. "He's steady - exhausted his magical core, he has - but he's resting and well."

Tom shook his head, fingers resting on his chin. "But he's not allowed to use magic," he murmured, still frowning. "How did he...?"

"It seems it has been... sapped out of him. My Lord." Healer Abbet sounded about as perplexed as Tom felt. "And the source is... somehow both internal and external at the same time, connecting to his soul but extending out..."

Tom froze.

He'd been draining Harry's magic.

And it connected to his soul.

A soulbond, mutual, though affecting in different ways... Tom hadn't exhausted his own core (though it was likely larger than Harry's), though his physical health had been declining, even if he'd been too moronic to realize that himself.

"I see," Tom said. "I do believe I know the cause, Healer Abbet."

She perked up. "Yes?"

"Soulbond," said Tom, then clarified, "to me."

Silence.

"Cause unknown," Tom continued quietly. "For now."

Another moment of silence. Healer Abbet walked by past him, putting a palm to Harry's forehead. "I understand, my Lord," she said somberly. "Is there any way I can...?"

"No," said Tom. He sighed and went to rake his hand through his hair until he remembered that he was wearing a disguise and currently had no hair. "I will handle it."

"Yes, my Lord." Healer Abbet pulled away from Harry, scribbling something on a slip of parchment. She flicked her wand, nodding at the colours flashing at its tip. "He's stable enough that I can revive him if you want, my Lord."

Tom blinked, then straightened in his chair. "Yes," he said. "Yes. Do that." As Healer Abbet nodded, Tom hissed to Nagini, " _Move, lest you startle him_."

" _I think you can do that on your own_ ," said Nagini, but moved out of the bed anyway.

Rolling his eyes, Tom turned back to the now-stirring Harry Potter.

His sworn enemy.

Whom he shared a soulbond with.

"Leave us," Tom said, taking a deep breath.

Merlin. Okay. He could do this.

Harry opened his eyes.

*

Harry did not take it well.

 _We have a soulbond_ , said Tom. _No_ , said Harry.

 _You need to stay here for the safety of both of us,_ said Tom. _No_ , said Harry.

 _Potter, you are going to die if we get separated_ , said Tom. _What have you done to me_ , said Harry, and then, _no._

 _I need you to work with me to find a solution to this,_ said Tom. _No,_ said Harry, and then, _fuck you_.

 _There's a room prepared for you - you will stay there until I call for you. You need to rest_ , said Tom. _No_ , said Harry, and then, _fuck off._

Tom decided, at that point, that socialized talks were currently out the question. He bound Harry's hands and legs, cast a quick disguise over him, and brought him to his room.

There he would stay - unbound, but warded in - until he'd cooled down and had time to get used to the situation.

Tom... _hoped_ he would cool down and get used to the situation.

Otherwise, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

*

"Lucius," Tom greeted. Lucius, pointedly not shifting uncomfortably, inclined his head. "Your loyalty shall not go unanswered. Tonight I give you knowledge of the current situation that none of the others hold."

Lucius blinked, straightening slightly. "I am... honoured, my Lord."

"You will, of course, keep quiet about it."

"Naturally, my Lord."

"Good." Tom let his disguise fall, revealing his undeniably more human form. Lucius blinked again, but there wasn't more than a brief flicker of relief before he schooled his expression once again. "There is an important guest within the manor's walls," Tom said. "Namely, Harry Potter."

Now Lucious could not contain his emotions, startling visibly. "Wh - willingly, my Lord?"

Tom tilted his head. "Not at the current moment," he allowed.

"My Lord, I do not mean to impose, but - I thought you wished the boy dead?" Lucius asked, eyebrows knit together.

"Oh, I did, yes, absolutely," Tom said. "I had, however, not foreseen a soulbond."

Silence. "I... see, my Lord," Lucius mumbled, eyes wide.

"The situation is under control," Tom lied, turning to stroke a finger down Nagini's side. It was a deliberate move, meant to make him look disinterested and calm. Lucius seemed to buy it, even if Nagini didn't. An idea hit him, and he bit down on a wide grin. "Do call him Lord, Lucius. For the sake of the bond."

"...yes, my Lord," Lucius said weakly. "Understood."

Turning slightly to give him a half-lidded look, Tom said, "He holds residence in the West Wing guestroom."

"The Green Room, my Lord?"

"Indeed. Bring him to me now - I shall key you into his disguise when you arrive. Use... force... if necessary." Tom didn't want to hurt Harry any more than the bond did, but if it was necessary... "He will appear as a man in his early twenties, dark-skinned and blond. His eyes remain the same."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said. "Now, my Lord?"

"Yes. Go."

"My Lord." Lucius bowed, backing out of the office and shutting the door behind him.

Tom waited a beat, then collapsed into his chair with a groan. " _Please tell me he's cooled down._ "

" _The little one has been glaring at anything within view for the last few hours_ ," Nagini reported, " _but he has at least stopped punching the walls._ "

Tom cheered weakly.

Merlin, what a mess - bound to his enemy, unable to hate him due to it? Having to deal with a dozen different conflicting emotions on top of that?

He had no regrets, however. Had he been returned to his former, insane self, he had no doubt he would have gone down burning.

There was a knock on the door. Tom sat up straight, absently checked the wards - Lucius, of course - and let the door open. A furious Harry Potter was revealed on the other side, flanked by Lucius - wand drawn.

Harry stepped inside; Lucius stepped outside; Tom closed the door.

Instantly, Harry adopted a defensive position, wand flying into his hand.

Tom, alarmed, jumped to his feet and drew his own wand - Harry spoke, " _Expelli-"_ but was cut short and thrown back against the door.

Tom stared. He slowly lowered his wand.

Harry staggered to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. "What the fuck?" he mumbled. Again, he tried to cast. " _Expelli -_ ah, fuck, what kinda ward _is that_?"

"There isn't any ward," Tom sighed. "There isn't even a simple _charm_." When Harry looked doubtful, Tom drew his wand again. He tried to cast an Expelliarmus as well, but, like Harry, was cut short and forced backward from the force of it. Recovering quickly, he pocketed his wand. "Would you sit? I wish you no harm."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I don't believe that," Harry spat. His wand was still out.

Tom raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at Nagini; she rolled her eyes and slithered around Harry's feet, tripping him towards the chair. "Sit," Tom repeated coldly.

"Fine!" Harry exclaimed, dropping into the chair. He sunk low into the seat, crossing his arms with a scowl. "Fine, I'm sitting, what do you _want_?"

" _He clearly hasn't cooled down_ ," said Nagini, tone both dry and amused. She slithered up the side of the desk, coiling on the tabletop. " _Or what do you think?_ "

Tom hushed her and folded his hands, sitting opposite of Harry. "Look. Neither of us wants to be in this situation, I'm certain." He ignored Harry's scoff. "The truth still remains that we share a soulbond. I do not know why. I do not know how. I do not know what kind. I do know that prolonged separation will result in death, possibly painful."

Harry's scowl eased up a little. "How do you know? Why should I _believe_ you?"

Nagini hissed a little laughter. " _Caught his attention, didn't it_?"

" _Nagini_ ," Tom reprimanded sternly. "By all accounts, you shouldn't," he said, turning back to Harry. "Very wise of you to not do so, in fact. Not under these circumstances, of course - but, Harry, come now." He leaned his elbows onto the table, whispering, "Can't you feel it?"

Harry glanced away. "I..."

Nagini laughed again.

" _Nagini!_ " Tom snapped. " _Leave the room, or I'll curse you! We don't need him more scared than he already is, Merlin!_ "

" _I doubt he's scared, hatchling_ ," said Nagini, amused.

Tom glanced over at Harry, who was staring at the two of them with wide eyes. He sighed, rubbing his temple briefly. "Right. I have the Death Eaters researching, but it's currently unknown what sort of bond it is. For the sake of _us both_ , you must stay here until we figure it out."

Harry opened his mouth.

"You do not have a choice," Tom said.

Harry closed his mouth, then opened it again.

"We're screening your mail."

Harry scowled, baring his teeth as he snarled, "So I'm being _kidnapped."_

"Wrong," said Tom. "You have _been_ kidnapped."

"You're fucking unbelievable," Harry exclaimed, sitting rigid in his chair. "I just! Fucking Christ, you're insane, I don't _want to be here_!"

Tom raised a single eyebrow. "Do you want to die?"

There was a brief pause. " _Don't let him answer that_ ," said Nagini.

Tom closed his eyes. " _Nagini I am going to cry._ "

Harry choked.

Tom's eyes flew open to find Harry covering his mouth with his hand, mirth in his eyes.

Oh. Well. That could mean many things! No reason to come to hasty conclusions. " _Harry_ ," said Tom, mindfully keeping it to parselmouth.

Harry cleared his throat. "Ahm, uh, yeah. Yes? Yes."

Wow, it was very tempting to obliviate him. "You're a parselmouth," Tom breathed.

"Nope," said Harry.

"You're a terrible liar," said Tom.

"No, you," said Harry.

Tom stared. "I think you should go back to your room," he said slowly. "Before I test the limits of this _bond_."

Harry's mirth vanished. He jumped to his feet. "Good idea," he agreed, backing off. "I'll - go."

The door fell shut behind him.

A beat.

" _I hate you so much_ ," Tom said.

Nagini laughed.

*

Later, after Tom had dined and made sure everything was as it should around the manor - he had practically overtaken power there, after all - he sat on the windowsill in his bedroom and gazed at the gardens outside.

Sitting in windowsills and gazing at gardens was school-child behaviour; sighing girls and sad boys – decidedly _not_ Lord-like.

But no one was here to see, except Nagini. And she would never tell.

She was coiled in his lap, and there was a heating charm on them both, as Tom was only wearing a loose shirt - of the neutral kind, neither Muggle nor Wizard - and pants. " _You have to talk to him again_ ," Nagini said.

" _I'm not stupid_ ," Tom muttered. " _Of course I have to talk to him again. He's accepted the bond, I believe... I'll try again tomorrow. He needs to know my plans._ "

Nagini peered up at him, unimpressed. " _Ah, yes, your plans regarding the... armed dirt._ "

" _Yes, those,_ " said Tom drily. " _And also about separation and safety features and no excess violence and... things like that_."

Nagini laughed softly, pressing her head into his palm. " _You should rest, little hatchling. You're tired._ "

" _How do you know?"_ Tom asked, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

" _I care for you_ ," said Nagini. " _Of course I know."_

Tom laughed. " _Of course you know_ ," he agreed, and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Come now, don't be ridiculous._ "

Tom pointedly put Nagini down on his bed. " _Last time you and Harry were in the same room, I said I would **cry**_ ," Tom hissed. " _You are **not** joining us today. I'll tell you what happened afterwards._"

Curling up into her 'I'm moping' pose, Nagini scoffed. " _Fine, be that way. Stupid_."

On his way to the office, Tom flagged down Lucius. "Send Harry to the office," he said, to which Lucius nodded sharply. In place behind his desk, Tom summoned some parchment and a quill. Last night, he'd begun noting down symptoms that could relate to various magical bonds, using _Bonds and Bindings_ ; _All You Need to Know_ as a reference.

He managed to work his way through a whole page when there was a knock on the door. A quick check rendered it to be Lucius, and Tom, without looking up, let the door open. "Ah," he said, and glanced up when Lucius entered. "Lucius."

Harry stood tense beside Lucius, brows fixed in a scowl and hands tight fists by his hips. There was a flash of pain at seeing him angry, and Tom made a mental note of that. Very possibly a symptom of the bond. "And _Harry_ ," Tom greeted, to try and ease Harry's mind. "How nice to see you."

No easing there. Harry's scowl intensified. "Voldemort."

Suddenly, Tom wished he'd brought Nagini along despite her sassiness. He had to tread carefully here - Harry was stubborn, angry, and afraid. It was clear as day that the loneliness was creeping upon him, and though Harry saw this as a losing fight, Tom didn't _want him_ to lose it. He needed Harry to see through the haze of stubbornness and lies.

Tom blinked. He made another mental note of knowing Harry's emotions, then turned to Lucius. "Leave us."

Lucius did, and Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Harry," he muttered, "I think we're on first-name basis, don't you?"

Harry's scowl became a fierce glare. "Don't push it," he growled. "No way am I calling you Tom."

It was fair, Tom mused - Potter morphing into Harry had happened solely because of the bond - but still. Some part of him - likely the bond, to be honest - recoiled at the thought of Harry seeing him like... well, like Voldemort. "Riddle, then," he offered. Harry squinted. Tom didn't break eye contact. Finally, Harry nodded tightly, and Tom drew a breath. "I wished to talk to you about the war."

Immediately, Harry spun on his heel and marched towards the door.

Merlin. Tom cast a silent locking charm; the following click resounded through the angry silence.

"Really, Harry," Tom sighed, "I'd think you were more mature than that."

Harry wasn't scared anymore - just angry and frustrated. The knowledge was setting Tom's temper on edge; if he'd just stop to listen, maybe he'd _understand_.

Harry grunted, then turned and pointed a trembling finger in Tom's face. "This isn't a question about being _mature_ ," he hissed, "this is a question of being a murderous mad-man!"

Tom grit his teeth. " _Exactly._ "

Displaying every ounce of his teenage moodiness, Harry groaned, rolled his eyes, and dropped like a ragdoll into the closest chair. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll listen."

Oh, thank _Merlin_. There was no genuine desire to listen or learn in Harry's words - he was, at most, resigned to be bored for a bit - but if he wasn't throwing spells or glares around, Tom at least had the chance to _talk_ to him. And this time he'd even planned what to say!

"What do you know about me, Harry?" said Tom, resting his elbows on the table - and expecting the wrong answer.

Harry raised an eyebrow, rising to the challenge. "That you're a crazy old man who slaughtered thousands of innocent people for the fun of it?" he began, voice and tone hardening with each word. "That you're Evil and Dark and hate people who're different than you?" He sat straighter in the chair and further raised his voice, yelling, "That you're a disgusting, horrifying _monster_ who cannot be tamed!"

Right on. Tom gave an unimpressed look. "What you _know_. Not what you _think_ you know."

Harry's jaw dropped. "But - that's - !"

"The _facts_."

And miraculously enough, Harry fell silent, expression turning into contemplation. "Uhm," he began. "Your... your real name is Tom Riddle." Oh - an interesting starting point. Tom had thought it would be his status as a Dark Lord. Perhaps the bond affected Harry's name use, as well? When Harry glanced up, seemingly looking for approval, Tom gave an encouraging nod. "You went to Hogwarts. You fought in the first Wizarding War. Your supporters are Death Eaters. You killed my parents and tried to kill me... you killed Cedric, you live in Malfoy Manor, and uhm... you own a snake."

Tom waited for something more. It never came. He quenched his surprise - Harry was either not well educated or doubting most of his sources, which were both fair, considering his situation. " _Very good_ ," he praised, making sure to use parselmouth to see how comfortable Harry would be.

The response was instant - a shifting forward, something like pride flashing over his features - but disappeared just as fast. Possibly caused by the bond, then.

"Now, over to a far less known fact about me," Tom continued. Harry blinked, then straightened, suddenly vastly more interested. "During the first Wizarding War, I was utterly insane."

There was a brief pause, and then Harry scoffed, sinking back into the chair. "Everyone knows that," he grumbled.

 _Gotcha._ "Wrong!" Tom exclaimed. Harry jumped. "Everyone _thinks_ they know that - there's a difference between knowing and _thinking_ you know!"

For the first time, Harry seemed to be caught off-guard - shoulders high and tense, eyes wide and mouth thin. He nodded hurriedly.

The reaction was slightly surprising, and so Tom sought out the instinctual knowledge of Harry's emotions.

He was... scared. The situation had startled him, whether that be Tom's abrupt exclamation of his sudden movements.

"Right," said Tom, uncertain what to do with that information. He sat back in his chair, folding his hands before him. "Well. In regards to the aforementioned insanity... do you know what a Horcrux is?"

Harry shook his head.

Deciding to conduct a minor, spur-of-the-moment experiment, Tom snapped, "Give me an _audible response_ , boy!"

Harry jumped again.

Interesting.

"No!" Harry cried. "No, I don't know what a Horcrux is!"

Like he thought. Nodding, Tom said, "By performing an ancient ritual involving cold-blooded murder, you can tear your soul in two and have part of it placed in any item."

Harry blinked. Tom allowed him to mull it over, surprised to realize he wasn't too horrified by it. "I... understand," Harry said, though he was frowning as he said it.

His understanding, though hesitant, was enough. "During the Wizarding War, I was intent on reaching immortality," Tom continued on. "In my desperation, I resorted to creating a Horcrux. Several of them, in fact. Towards the end, I only had approximately three percent of a whole soul left in my body." He shrugged lightly, giving a crooked, practiced smile. "That's enough to drive any man insane."

Harry shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?"

Tom sighed. "During the ritual that gave me this body back," he said, gesturing at his face, "some factors reacted poorly. The result was that in recreating this body and tying my soul to it, all my Horcruxes were broken."

Harry blinked.

"It means my soul is whole again," Tom said.

Harry blinked again.

"Oh, for Circe's sake, I'm not insane anymore!"

The blink became doubtful. "Yeah? How am I supposed to believe that?" Defiantly, Harry crossed his arms. He probably thought he looked challenging or threatening. They'd have to work on that.

He rose to the supposed challenge nonetheless. "I have yet to curse you or your owl."

The response was nearly immediate, Harry softening somewhat around the edges and leaning forward, saying, "The bond doesn't allow you to," in a tone far too self-assured to be truly _his._

 _"_ Ah, but I haven't tried now, have I?" Tom asked, allowing himself a grin. It wasn't often someone was daring enough to attempt banter with him, even if said banter was... rather pathetic, really.

Harry blinked, then shook himself, pulling back and away. He cleared his throat, then muttered, "I s'pose not." A pause, then a dejected, "Fine. Say I believe you're not insane. How does that change anything?"

"Muggles are dangerous," Tom said, having already prepared for this question. "Their technology and scientific advantages are growing greater by the day. They are already powerful enough to crush us, magic or no. They've even been to the moon, did you know that?"

Uncertainly, Harry nodded. "Yes... yes."

"The Ministry and the wizarding world, in general, do not understand this. It's my goal to have them face the truth."

"But you... in the first War?" Harry asked, confused.

"I was insane," Tom reminded him. "I thought it seemed like a good idea, but it's not possible. It's not my goal to have them erased from Earth, but rather have the Wizarding World understand what threat they pose and have them take measures to fix it. Force fields, securing islands, come to a solution concerning muggle-born and half-bloods… etcetera."

Harry shook his head. He seemed overwhelmed by the new information. "But," he tried again. "But why are you _telling_ me this?"

"We're bonded," Tom said gently. He grimaced at the spring of disgust that welled up in Harry at the word but pushed aside his own reaction. "Whether we like it or not, that's how it is. For the unforeseeable future that is unlikely to change. And that's why I want your assistance." Tom drew a deep breath. "In other words, I want you on my side."

" _WHAT?_ " Harry yelled, jumping to his feet with such speed that his chair fell over. "No way! Not happening!" He bared his teeth, backing towards the door. "You're trying to _brainwash_ me, _that's_ what's happening here! And I _won't_ allow it!" And without a second's pause or hesitation, he darted from the room.

Tom sat in the deafening silence that remained after the door slammed shut.

The door which, for all intents and purposes, should still have been locked.

Harry had overridden it with his magic.

Sighing heavily, Tom rested his face in his hands. "That," he muttered, "could've gone better."

He let himself wallow in the misery of a failed attempt only a few seconds before he rubbed his hands over his face and sat back, returning to his parchments. With his quill, he noted, _knowledge of emotions regarding specific situations_ under _symptoms._

It brought the bond from secondary-symptomatic to multi-symptomatic, meaning it affected three or more areas of either subject in the bond... from Tom's side, it was physical, mental, and now externally-emotionally.

Merlin. The more he learned about this, the more dangerous it seemed to attempt to break it. Whatever the status of their bond was, it had to be fully-equal - meaning both subjects experience the exact same symptoms - to be less dangerous to break. Harry and Tom, however, were most likely semi-equal. They were both affected physically, but it didn't seem like Harry had any knowledge of Tom's emotions - otherwise, he'd know he was sincere.

To top it off, Tom had no knowledge of how the bond had come to be, nor how Harry and he were actually bonded. There were hundreds of reasons - destined souls, entwined souls, the same soul split, identical souls, and so on. Most of them seemed unlikely, but Tom just didn't know enough about the situation to know for sure... and there wasn't a safe way to check. He wouldn't get himself involved, now that he was vulnerable and mortal. Merlin, even if he hadn't needed to be in danger, the thought of endangering Harry set him on edge. It was the bond, of course, he knew as much. The emotions, however, were still _real_.

Right. Well. That was too much moping all at once. Tom stood, putting his papers together. He had more plans to flesh out and needed someone to discuss them with... Nagini should be in his bedroom.

He'd give Harry some time to cool down. Then he'd try again.


End file.
